Frog Legs
by Li'l Yahiko
Summary: When I am in trouble, Tiana makes frog legs for dinner. Naveen's POV Naveen/Tiana


Frog Legs

(Disclaimer: Princess and the Frog and all related characters are property of Disney.)

When I am in trouble, Tiana makes frog legs for dinner.

As a man, I consider it just my luck to never see it coming, but as soon as I sit down at that dinner table, and the plate of fried legs is thrust before me, I know I have done some sort of wrong at some point during the day. I cannot pretend to have forgotten about dinner, since I am already in my seat, and yet at the same time I cannot touch the things.

Fried, mentally slimy (err, mucous-covered actually), frog legs. I cannot eat them. I who have experienced life on the legs of a frog could never touch them.

…but that's the point, really. She does it on purpose, I know she does. She sits down at the other end of the table and keeps her gaze locked onto me the entire time, never looking at her meal and yet still managing to eat so politely. I don't believe her frog legs are actual. They very well may be imitation, a food she whipped up to appear as such just as a threat to me. To think she'd be capable of eating them is a somewhat uncomfortable idea, so this is what I believe. For all I know, the ones that I have on my plate could be imitation as well.

I never had the stomach to find out.

We sit, and I pick at my meal while she glares at me in a subtle way. I can read it in her eyes, the "you know what you did." I try to keep my eyes from looking at hers, but the only other place I have to look is at my plate where the frog legs are.

And I can't stop thinking of my legs, breaded and fried up for dinner.

I shiver.

She notices it. She always notices it.

"Something wrong?" She asks, eyebrows raised, and I feel like I should be the one asking her that.

"No, no, nothing is… is wrong," I respond, pursing my lips.

"Well, _honey_, you haven't touched your dinner," She mentions, and a ghost of a smirk is upon her lips.

"I am… just not very hungry right now," I assure her, even though I am starved.

"Well, that ain't a way for a boy to stay healthy," She responds, and it sounds like a threat, because it is.

I bite back my fear and then plaster on the best smile I have. No girl can resist the smile of Prince Naveen of Maldonia…. Then again, that may have been the reason behind my punishment. Either way, I figure that since I am already in the proverbial dog house, I haven't really got anything to lose. "Ah… Tiana," I keep grinning because I know she loves my dimples. "Have I told you today how utterly beautiful you look?"

"So what, I don't look beautiful everyday?" She counters. She is good at this game.

"I did not say that. I just feel, as your husband, that I should tell you everyday," I reply, and while I am really saying these things in hopes that I can be saved from this punishment, I do mean it.

"Mm-hmm," is her response, unwaveringly angry, and yet there is a curiosity of what I am to say next.

"You are beautiful," I say, and she is. She is remarkably lovely. Her hair pulled back stylishly yet conservatively with only one strand out of place, curling along her forehead. Her lips, red and expectant, hiding her glee of getting under my skin. Oh, is she under my skin. Her eyes burning with anger, though frightening, are also brighter, and that is what makes Tiana the most beautiful. Physical things can be found on anyone, but Tiana's passion, her fire is what makes her the most beautiful. Pride is not a fault in that she knows this, for a woman of such skills and talents should be well-aware. She works hard for everything in her life, so she is far from selfish. That is one of her best talents, her selflessness. It's a talent I am still trying to master for myself. I can be ingloriously egotistical.

She sets her fork down with a dainty hand. "Well, _darlin_', can I get you some Tabasco sauce for your frog legs?"

She takes the bottle and hands it to me, and I grin sheepishly and pull at the collar of my shirt. If fate is a cruel mistress, Tiana is brutal.

I love her.

I love her even when she is imagining pouring Tabasco sauce on my legs.

"I ah…" I begin, unscrewing the bottle and dripping the hot liquid onto the disgusting entrée, "I believe that… ah… you are the loveliest of all the girls in the land, are you aware?"

She folds her hands together and places her chin upon them. "Is that so? Go on, _sweetie._"

I shiver again.

"I ah… I must be the luckiest man on the planet to have obtained a flower such as yourself, you know. You are lovely… smart… ah… unique and talented… why, I could go on for centuries about your beauty and not have a good enough answer."

"How nice."

She never gives up the fight very easily, but I am not quick to give up on something either.

"I could pluck stars from the heavens and never find one as bright and shining as you," I explain, and I mean this… even if I am trying to get out of trouble.

A spark. Her anger falters slightly, and if I didn't know her as well as I did, I wouldn't have seen it. I saw it, however. I touched her with those words, possibly bringing back a little pain in her heart concerning a certain firefly and his love.

I can be ingloriously egotistical, and I am ashamed of it.

"It's true," I continue on anyway. "Whenever you smile, you light up the whole sky!" I swung my arm, becoming a little overzealous, and I spill Tabasco on my shirt.

I turn to look at the stain, but quickly dart my eyes back, and she's trying to hide away the smile she couldn't help but reveal. She can hide all she wants. I saw the sky light up.

"So…" She begins this time for the obligatory ball is in my court now. "I noticed you chatting with some of the customers this afternoon."

And there was the problem. The customers she refers to, I can tell by her tone of voice, were female. I am flirted with on daily occasions, and I do not try to flirt back… however, I may on an incident or two have done so accidentally. It is not my fault that I am charming. It is standard prince procedure to be charming. As for my dashing good looks? Blame my parents.

"Why yes, I was," I offer, knowing that to lie will be a downfall I can never rise up from. To lie would be to give her the idea that I am up to no good. My mother told me as a boy to never lie. My father told me only to lie if absolutely necessary. That is one of the differences between women and men. "I was speaking to some fine young ladies from town. One of them had come all the way from Missouri."

"What did you speak of?" She asks, voice quiet and warning. She is the one looking at her plate now, though.

"Why, I was bragging," I explain, and her gaze turns sharp, as I knew it would, so I finish my sentence before she can interuppt, "about you."

"M… Me?"

I have caught her off-guard. She often forgets that I too have moments of cleverness once in awhile.

"Yes, see, this girl… her name was… Vanessa? Rebecca? I don't know," I did know. "She came down to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, of course, and they were hungry, and someone suggested here. I told her, I said… 'you will not find a more tasty meal in all of Louisiana.' They obviously were somewhat skeptical, so I recommended a few dishes to them, and told them 'My wife is the best cook that has ever lived. I can guarantee that you will not be disappointed.' I told them 'from this day forward, you will be driving down from Missouri every weekend just to have a taste of Tiana's delicious foods.' That is exactly what I said."

She can't hide the smile now, but she is doing her best to try.

I lean my chin on my fist, grinning at her as I scoop up a bite of mashed potatoes and swallow it… and then proceed shouting and downing my glass of water since I had coated my entire meal with several shots of Tabasco.

She laughs. I can't help but laugh a little too, even while I'm wiping my tongue with my napkin. Her laugh is so… for lack of a better word, cute. It's a sound that can brighten even the gloomiest of my days, and I'm not just saying that because I'm a sap. Well, it's partly because I'm a sap, but not completely.

Her anger isn't completely forgotten, simply because she is stubborn and doesn't wish to believe that I have outwitted her. Not even once. I can't win one? That's not fair… but that's how the game is played, and as long as I'm playing with her, I'm perfectly willing to keep it up.

Night falls and I crawl into bed with an empty stomach, and she takes my shirt downstairs to clean the stain and then crawls into her side of the bed, not facing me. I pull her up against me, and she somewhat protests but quickly gives up. Her skin smells vaguely of lilies and gumbo. It is a smell I believe she will always have, and it is a smell I will adore and cherish always. I fall asleep as if I am floating on a cloud and dream of wonderful things… and of food. Delicious food. Tiana's delicious food.

And then I have a nightmare about frog legs.

I snap awake and check to make sure my legs are still in tact. They are. I settle down at the relief that dreams are dreams. Tiana is snoozing next to me, and as I lay down to go back to sleep, turning to face the wall, I notice something on my bedside table.

It's a sandwich.

I love her.

(A/N: Just something I wrote for my own mini-celebration that PatF is coming out on DVD tomorrow. Bet you can't guess who my favorite character from the movie is. Here's a hint: It's Naveen, lol.)


End file.
